Chapter 6

When my mom finished blowing him, I instructed her to suck the condom off of his cock with her mouth. It was filled with his semen. She placed it in the Ziploc bag and sealed it in her purse without being told what to do.

“Do you want to come inside with us?” I asked.

“Is she going in like that?” Mr. Johnson asked as he took another look at my naked mother. He looked very tired but also very happy after blowing his load.

“No, I will let the cow wear some clothes,” I said. My mom pinched my leg but didn’t complain about the insult out loud.

“I’d rather sit out here and enjoy some fresh air,” he said.

“We won’t be long,” I tossed my mother her shirt and told her to put it on.

“Thank you, Sir,” she replied submissively.

After we were far enough away from the truck she broke out into hysterical laughter. “Tell me THAT is going up on the website? Oh my god, Jerry! That was fucking blowing my mind. Where did you come up with all of that?” she laughed so hard.

“I am not sure if it CAN go on the website,” I told her. I realized about halfway through this scenario that my voice was in all of the shots and I didn’t want to be the star in my mother’s videos. I told my mom that.

“What? So that was all for nothing? It was brilliant,” she insisted. I was flattered. I thought she’d be angry with me.

“I also hadn’t asked Mr. Johnson to sign a model release form,” I reminded her as we walked into Kessler’s. People didn’t freak out when they saw my mom wearing a t-shirt and sandals. They might have if she was dressed like a hooker. They probably assumed she had shorts on under the shirt.

“Pshaw,” mom blew off the idea of a model release form. “Model release forms are just to flatter the guy. Do you really think any of them would bring a lawsuit against us? Hey Judge, I paid this hooker to fuck me, and I clearly knew they were filming me, but now I want to get paid?”

“It doesn’t hurt to be careful,” I reminded my mom. I preferred her acting submissively and timidly. It felt like she was laughing at how naïve I was.

“Yeah, these legal forms are like condoms. It’s a false sense of security. They break, or they end up wanting me to eat their cum anyway. I do not think this old man is going to sue us.”

Mom apologized when she saw that I looked angry. “Hey, I should be the one who is angry. You know, Aberdeen is a small town. If I ever go to that Burger King again, they are going to recognize me!”

“Did you really cum or was that all acting?” I asked.

“Oh god, that was the best orgasm I’ve had in a long time. Thank you for that. It was hard to stay horny while you made me keep repeating that ridiculous phrase, but it was kind of fun. Just promise me you’ll put it on the website? Why else would I do all of that for nothing?”

I wondered if my mom was an extrovert, or if she really just wanted money that badly and knew the video would turn guys on. I knew it would – it was pretty wild. “You really liked the clothespins, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mind them. I wouldn’t want them on all the time though,” she admitted. We were shopping and walking around getting some groceries.

“What got you so turned on?” I asked. She used her finger on herself all the time. I thought it may have been the clothes pins that did it.

“I don’t know? I guess the whole scenario?” she said. I was puzzled by that and didn’t quite understand.

When we went to the produce area, I held up a huge cucumber and showed it to her. “Put that in,” she said.

“That’s what she said,” I snickered, and my mom laughed at my joke. At one point, we were alone in one of the aisles. “Raise your shirt in the back,” I said as I wheeled up behind her.

My mom flashed me her entire ass, casually. She seemed completely unmoved by it like it was not that big of a deal. There could have been security cameras or the possibility that someone could have walked down the aisle.

I noticed that at times, my mom seemed completely unphased by some of the orders I gave her. There were other times she got excited or seemed scared. I liked it when she gave me any emotional response. The times where she just did something without making a big deal out of it weren’t as interesting to me. I just wasn’t sure what triggered her emotions.

“Can you fit this star bucks bottle up your ass?” I asked as I wheeled up and handed her a small 9-ounce vanilla Frappuccino bottle.

“I can given enough time, but not until we pay for it,” Mom put it in the cart. The bottle was small, but it certainly didn’t look easy to pack into her tight asshole. She didn’t seem intimidated by the thought of it either.

“Let me get a four pack then,” I smiled at her wickedly and took the individual one out and replaced it with a four pack. My mom laughed and said she definitely couldn’t fit four of those up her ass.

An elderly woman was walking past us and overheard. My mom only laughed about it and said, “Dumb bitches shouldn’t be eavesdropping if they don’t want to hear nasty shit.”

“It’s interesting how you can seem so submissive and vulnerable in the truck, and then now you are gregarious and extroverted,” I observed.

Mom stopped and turned to me. She said she was flattered by that comment. “I’ve been turning tricks since before you sprouted hair on your ding-dong. The guy who shows up in the morning wants me to be a slutty whore. The afternoon guy wants me to be a sweet and innocent hometown girl, and the guy at night wants me to crawl around at his feet.”

“Yeah, I remember how you looked at Lenny after he fucked you. You probably made him feel ten feet tall,” I told her.

“That’s the job,” Mom shrugged. “Some guys want to be made to feel like an asshole, but most guys want to feel like a king. I am paid to entertain them.”

“What entertains you?” I asked as we continued shopping.

Mom thought about that question for a long time. I almost thought she wasn’t going to answer me. “I don’t know. I don’t ALWAYS enjoy sex, but usually, even bad sex is decent sex. I don’t think that’s how most women process it, but I’ve never been most women. I’ve never really thought about what entertains me. I suppose what we are doing now kind of does,” she added.

I nodded. I wanted to know more but I didn’t want to pressure her. I felt a little guilty about what I put my mom through in the truck. She seemed to think it was funny, but she also looked scared, frustrated, and deeply humiliated.

“You know, We’ve lived next door to Mr. Johnson for over a decade. He watches me go in to the house but I never figured him for a pervert. I guess most old men are,” she chuckled. “What are you going to make me do on the way back home?”

Mom genuinely wanted to know. I liked keeping her in suspense. “I can’t tell you. That would make your performance less genuine.”

“What point is there in performing if you are too chicken to post the video?” she asked.

“I can edit out my voice and maybe put someone else’s voice,” I said. I have a relatively deep voice, but I don’t like the way it sounds when I listen to it played back in a recording. I feel it sounds sarcastic even when I don’t want to be.

“You scaredy-cat! I let you record me saying that I love pop farts or whatever!”

“Let me? You HAVE to do what I tell you,” I said.

“Or what? You’ll release all the dirty pictures of me and blackmail me?” Mom pretended to quake in her sandals. “MY reputation! I’ll never be able to show my face in Aberdeen again.”

“Hey, that would make a great scenario if someone didn’t know you didn’t care what people thought about you.”

“I do care,” Mom said. “I am not a total asshole,” she clarified. “I would prefer we do sexy stuff, but you are the director. That scenario in the truck felt spontaneous and authentic. It was basically the truth too. The only part you left out was that I asked you to post all of this content on Only Fans.”

“Not just post it! Crop it, enhance it, caption it, interact with the fans, set up content galleries, and subscription portals, cross-post it, advertise it,” I reminded her.

Mom nodded along and thanked me. “You are doing an excellent job! What am I up to now? Eight subscriptions?” she joked.

I checked. “We have twelve!”

Mom arched an enthusiastic eyebrow. She wasn’t elated or busting with joy, but she seemed pleasantly surprised by the news.

It was still 24 dollars in a month, but four new subscriptions since this morning were really quite good considering that I changed over her Twitter and Instagram accounts. I posted something to the fans about new content coming soon of our shopping trip.

“Now Mister Johnson really thinks that I let you boss me around all the time. Are you going to tell him the truth that this is for the site or let him in on the joke when we get back?”

“Is it a joke?” I snickered as I lifted the back of my mother’s shirt and left part of her ass crack exposed.

“You tell me?” she seemed amused and continued to walk around with her ass hanging out. “You know there are kids here, right?”

“Yeah, they’ve seen butts before,” I chuckled. The store wasn’t very busy and other than a couple of teenagers at the check-out counter I doubted there were any kids. “You’ll walk like that until someone tells you that your shirt is riding up and then you will thank them and fix it.”

“Okay, that’s the scenario? My evil son isn’t blackmailing me to be a naughty girl?” mom teased me by putting her finger on the tip of her lips and mugging for the camera with a sexy look.

“No, just walk around the store and bend over, pretend you don’t know you are exposing yourself. Show me as much as you can without making it obvious.”

Mom and I played this dirty little game around the store until the assistant manager came over and made us stop. Mom straightened her shirt and thanked him. We both blushed and paid for our stuff, and left. She laughed when we got outside though. “I have to shop here as well, you know?”

“Hey, you could always quit,” I said.

“Oh no, I made a deal. If you get assertive, what is it? I do whatever you tell me? That’s still the story when we see Walt, right?” she asked me a second time to confirm that was the deal.

“Yes, let’s see how long we can keep that going,” I said.

“He’ll be pissed if he finds out we are goofing on him,” Mom warned me.

“Then I guess you better make it believable, slut!” I smacked my mom playfully on the bottom. It wasn’t hard but I did lift up her shirt as we walked through the parking lot. I left it up as we got to the truck.

“Load the groceries in the cabin of the truck, then put my chair in the back CAREFULLY, cunt” I said. “Take the cucumber out. You’ll be riding on that all the way home.”

“Yes Sir,” my mom pleased and very patient and content, almost a complete 180 from her playful and sarcastic attitude from moments ago. My mother reminded me of a submissive June Cleaver as she dutifully loaded up the truck while I climbed out of my chair.